Sex Hair
by teal-slippers1990
Summary: Morgan had meant it when he'd told Reid he liked the new haircut. And then the kid went and ruined it. That needed to be fixed. *In response to Reid's hairstyle starting in episode 4x12. Rated M. One-shot. Morgan/Reid.
1. Sex Hair

Author's Note: This one-shot is dedicated to **Rayne McKenna **(my smut-mate), **MarineLvr84**, and all my other reviewers for I Had You Attention All Along who want to kill me for holding off on the sex. Enjoy! Review if you have the time, please :).

Warnings: Language and smut, folks. You've been warned.

Disclaimer: The original characters and any borrowed plot ideas belong to Mark Gordon Company, and the writers of Criminal Minds. And all the channels that run the episodes, I suppose.

**Sorry for the fake update to those of you following me or this story. I caught a few typos.

***And one more fake update. Sorry, I promise I'm done!

* * *

><p><strong>Sex <strong>**Hair**

Agent Morgan slouched down at his desk and stared blankly at a string of unopened emails, pretending to read. He'd meant it when he'd complemented Spencer's new haircut in the briefing for the Chloe Kelcher case. It looked good on him. The semi-asymmetrical look really suited his bone structure. It also emphasized the light curl at the ends of his hair.

Morgan sighed and wondered when exactly it was that he'd started paying attention to Reid's _curls. _Particularly the little ones that cupped his ears. He fiddled with the pen on his desk and pulled out one of his many files of incomplete paperwork. It was probably when he'd made the mistake of tousling those curls. He hadn't even been thinking about it when he'd reached out…"Nice hair, by the way." It was so soft. Did the kid actually follow those rinse and repeat instructions on the shampoo bottles? Did he have a leave-in conditioner or something? No…Knowing Reid, he washed it with bar soap. Incredibly soft hair was probably a side effect of his brilliant mind. Morgan rolled his eyes at the thought. Ridiculous.

By the time they finished the case with the cop killer in Phoenix, Morgan had been hard pressed to keep his hands to himself. He wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in locks that had grown long enough to curl freely and tilt the kid's head back and…Now this was where his mind went a little crazy. Morgan was straight. As an arrow. Women were gorgeous creatures put on this earth to be appreciated, among other things. And he was never one to miss a chance to avidly express his appreciation of the human body. Ugh! There it was again. That quirk that Reid had sparked. Before, it would have been the female body, and female only. Morgan knew men who were attractive, but he'd never been attracted _to_ them. Reid, though…Mmmm, he was just so so very pretty.

He'd fought the growing attraction for months. Finally, he'd been forced to either accept it or go insane. He was attracted to Reid. Very attracted. Pin him to the bullpen floor and fuck him 'til he couldn't move attracted. Morgan inhaled and counted to twenty before exhaling. Lately, he needed to focus all his spare energy on keeping himself off of and away from Reid, as much as he could without raising suspicion. And now here the two of them sat, Morgan finishing late paperwork and Reid…who knew? All Morgan knew was they were alone in the office at 9 o'clock at night.

But Morgan's obsession wasn't what had him in this slump. He glanced up again, keeping a subtle eye on Reid at his desk. The kid had ruined it. Morgan had walked into the BAU the morning they took that case with the psycho lawyer and his friendly neighborhood murderer turned blog-buddy down in Florida, and knew as soon as he saw Reid that the day was going to be a bad one. Those thick, glossy waves Morgan wanted so badly to touch lay trapped in a slicked back mass under a layer of product. And there it stayed for the rest of the case. And the next case and the one after that. No movement. Never falling down to brush across Reid's pale cheek, or cup beneath his chin. Morgan could fight temptation, but this…This he couldn't handle. This was driving him to distraction.

Reid leaned forward over a file he was reading. His hair should have fallen forward. It should have covered one side of his face, tickling his ear. Based on the lack of tension in his shoulders, Reid was reviewing whatever was in the file for pleasure. So he should have slowly, absently tucked the loose waves behind his ear and continued with his reading. If it were an urgent file, he should have knocked the locks out his eyes impatiently, with several failed attempts. Instead, every tantalizing strand stayed perfectly placed.

Morgan gritted his teeth and buried himself in his paperwork. He completed page after page after page…

Reid looked up from the archived file he'd pulled shortly after they'd arrived back at the BAU. It was just an old case file he'd wanted to read for a while, but hadn't had the time for until now. He watched Morgan work for a while. The older man had been behaving oddly these past few cases. Staring when he thought Reid wasn't looking. Keeping his distance at times then standing a bit too close, only to back off again, almost like the crowding was subconscious. The light casual touches Reid had grown so used to stopped completely. For him, that was a fundamental set back. Whether Morgan knew it or not, his periodic body contact had been crucial in helping Reid open up to his team as a whole. They all reached out to him, but Morgan's hand on his shoulder had caused the initial crack in his defenses that let all the other attempts get through.

The one touch he missed most of all had to be the occasional brush of his hair. Morgan had only done it once or twice, but Reid had held his breath every time he came near, hoping it would happen again. He knew from observation that Morgan had a bit of a fascination with his hair. When the contact stopped completely he'd let it grow longer and longer, trying to entice the man to reach out and run his warm hands through it even just once more. It never happened. Eventually, Reid gave up. He couldn't bring himself to cut it just yet, but he also couldn't stand to have it dangling about his face as constant reminder of what he wanted. So he'd bought some mousse product and slicked it back. Out of his face. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Wrong. Turns out that saying only works if the object of your desires isn't CONSTATNTLY IN SIGHT. All the damn time. Reid had never been so resentful about being constantly on call for work.

He wished Morgan would get up from that desk and come over and put a hand on his shoulder. That was all he wanted. Just one touch. Reid rubbed a palm over his knee. It was like a whole new craving. A whole new addiction. One that kept itself away. Still working. It was almost 10:30pm. When did Morgan ever stay this late? And on a Friday too… Reid stood up and walked to Morgan's desk, leaning over the partition.

"I've never seen you work so diligently at paperwork before."

Morgan nearly flew out of his seat.

"What the hell, Reid?" he demanded, fumbling the file and nearly spilling papers everywhere. He glared up at Reid, the majority of his temper stemming from the lack of hair falling into Reid's face. He was leaning down, it should have formed a curtain between Morgan and the kissable frown Reid was making.

"Sorry! I was just wondering why you're still here, is all. You usually say screw the paperwork and go out on Fridays… Are you ok?" Reid tried to focus on his answer, but he couldn't help but dissect that jump. He was casting a shadow over Morgan's desk from where he stood. If Morgan's mind had been on the paperwork he was filling out, then he would have noticed the lack of light. But Reid's voice caught him completely off guard. So the last thing on his mind was that file.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get this done on time for once. What are you still doing here, anyway? There's no way you put off finishing your write-ups," he teased.

It did nothing to ease Reid's disappointment, though. Morgan was still leaning very pointedly backwards, putting plenty of space between himself and Reid.

Reid took a deep breath and ordered his tongue to work before he lost his nerve, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks with me. You haven't been yourself for a few months now and I-well, I mean if you wanted-I think you need a few drinks," Reid fidgeted in Morgan's stunned silence. "Isn't that how the saying goes? O-or is it let me buy you a drink?" Morgan's jaw dropped. "Clearly that's not it, but I mean would that-that's not-Do you know what I meant, at least?"

Morgan swallowed convulsively. He knew what he wanted Reid to mean. Unfortunately, he also knew what the kid actually meant, so he couldn't claim ignorance later.

"Pretty Boy, I'd love to take you up on that, but tonight's the kind of night where I'd end up smashed. And since I'd be driving us, that may not be wise." He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his jaw muscles relaxed so Reid wouldn't notice the restraint it took to turn the offer down. If he got Reid drunk, he could definitely at least get that hair down. But Morgan wasn't sure if he could stop himself after that point.

It's incredibly difficult to trick a genius. Reid watched Morgan's teeth grind and knew he wanted to say yes to the drinks. That it wouldn't take much to get one. Encouraged, he tried again. "I could pick something up. There's a liquor store on the way to my apartment. My couch is quite comfortable, really. I should know, I've slept there often enough. In fact, just last week while I was researching…" Reid rambled on for several minutes. The lecture was half-assed at best, because most of his attention was on Morgan. By falling back on a familiar pattern, his inconsequential (to everyone else) rambles, Reid hoped to lull Morgan into complacency. Based on his body language, it was working.

The tension in Morgan's shoulders eased. If Reid maintained the Reid-effect for the rest of the night, Morgan could survive this easily. With just a little effort.

Morgan stared at the bag in Reid's lap out of the corner of his eye. Was the kid secretly Irish? He'd walked out of the store with three bottles of Gentleman's Jack and another bottle of rum. Morgan crossed his fingers that Reid was stocking up, or one of them was going to end up with alcohol poisoning.

Two hours and a Star Trek movie later, Morgan was pretty sure it was going to be him. Make no mistake, Reid was wasted. But he was giggling and curled up on the couch in loose plaid pajama pants that were riding lower and lower on his hips with every twist and that sculpted hair wasn't even beginning to fall free. Morgan had stopped chasing his drinks when Reid changed his pants.

Gone was the fucking Reid-effect. Or maybe it was still here, because he was certainly having an effect. But it was the wrong goddamned one. And he just kept getting closer. If his knee brushed against Morgan's one more time…Morgan finished another glass and poured one more. The first bottle of Jack was almost gone. He needed to make sure Reid didn't open the second.

"Pretty Boy, I've never seen you sho-so wash-wasted," Morgan frowned at the lack of control he had over his tongue.

He didn't feel drunk. He didn't even feel tipsy. Because he hadn't moved to feel it. Shit. He'd been so intent on not getting any closer to Reid that he hadn't been keeping his own inebriated state in check. And neither of them had eaten dinner... What the hell had he been thinking? Morgan had the sneaking suspicion there would be problems if he tried walking. And the kid was finishing another drink.

"That's…because…I've…never…been…this…wasted," Reid sounded out each word deliberately, determined not to embarrass himself in front of Morgan.

Reid had lost count of the number of drinks they'd had between the two of them and that was saying something. He emptied the rest of the bottle into his glass and rose to set the glass bottle in the sink. Reid giggled as his body swayed, reciting to himself the many ways the alcohol flooding his system effected him. Morgan cursed and carefully stood up, moving forward to take the bottle.

"I-I've heehee…I've got it! Reaw-Really!" Reid promised with a bright smile. He swayed again, but refused to let go of the bottle.

"When the fuck did you get sho-so strong, Pretty Boy?" Morgan grumbled, settling for guiding the younger man to the sink. Fighting over a glass bottle would end badly.

"After my…third…drink, and your fourth," Reid replied, setting the bottle down gingerly.

Pleased with himself, Reid made an abrupt about face, forgetting he was still wearing his socks. Forgetting until they slipped right out from under him. He landed on his ass on the hard linoleum with a sharp cry, more surprise than pain. He heard a groan from beside him.

Morgan's pride had never been quite so bruised. Okay, that was a lie. There were a few times in college. But it hadn't happened in over a decade. He'd tried to catch Reid, but the odd angle of his fall mixed with the alcohol on an empty stomach had Morgan flat on his back right beside him. He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to think about his now-pounding head.

"Morgan! Are you alright?" He opened his eyes to find the kid leaning over him. Not one stupid fucking hair out of place.

Morgan couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Reid's shoulder in one hand and buried the other in his gelled hair, tousling and pulling and tugging and parting. He left no strand in place and didn't stop until he heard a quiet sigh accompanied by a sudden increase of weight in his hand. Morgan's eyes lowered from the now tangled mass of hair to Reid's face and took in the pure bliss reflected there. Reid's head tilted to the side, resting in the hand trapped in his hair. His lips parted minutely and turned up in a small smile. Morgan couldn't resist temptation this time. Not when it was so close and his inhibitions were shot.

He dragged Reid down by his hair and crushed their lips together. Before Reid could pull away, Morgan forced his tongue through the parted pink lips, determined to coax acceptance from the younger man. He didn't have to work too hard for it. One brush of his tongue across Reid's and he was swallowing the younger man's moans. Delighted to finally have the silky locks free and in his hands, Morgan took full advantage, using them to manipulate Reid's positioning. When he pulled away, having finally drank his fill, both agents were on their knees, the smaller bowing sharply backwards while Morgan loomed over him.

Reid's hands were fisted in Morgan's shirt, clinging for all he was worth. His lips were a dark pink, his flushed skin only a shade lighter. He stared up at Morgan with glazed eyes, begging silently for more contact. Neither had to look to know the other was hard and aching to finish what they'd started here. He whimpered as Morgan pulled away, releasing the hold in his hair.

"Bed, Pretty Boy," he realized his mistake when Reid's face lit up. "Separate beds. We're both drunk and I refuse to take advantage of you."

Reid stifled his rising frustration, reminding himself that Morgan's moral streak was one of his favorite traits in the man. Besides, he knew large amounts of alcohol had negative effects on a man's performance in bed. That was something one definitely needed to avoid in their first time with a new partner.

"Fine," he pouted, standing up carefully and turning to the hall. "But Morgan…" He waited until Morgan was looking him dead in the eye, "I want this now, and I'll want it in the morning. Don't doubt that." He didn't wait for a reply before slipping into his bedroom.

Morgan fell back onto Reid's (admittedly incredibly comfortable) couch and felt a grin stretch his kiss-swollen lips. The fact that Reid knew him well enough to know he'd be doubting his actions meant more to him than he'd ever thought possible. He sighed and shed his jeans and over-shirt, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch over himself. A silent thanks to the alcohol that he'd be able to sleep tonight.

Morgan awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of a shower running. Wasn't a dream. Thank god. He grabbed the spare tooth brush and tooth paste he always kept in his bag out to brush his teeth in the kitchen. They hadn't made much of a mess the night before, but Morgan picked up their glasses and washed them, depositing the empty Jack bottle in Reid's recycling bin after rinsing it thoroughly.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to watch the news. Or pretend to watch the news. He watched their lips move and thought about kissing Reid again. And doing more than kissing Reid. A lot more. He was still thinking about that when Reid exited the shower in nothing but a towel.

Reid froze when he saw Morgan awake and alert. One hand dropped to his towel and held the top tightly shut. All his forgotten nerves came flooding back.

"S-sorry, I thought you'd still be asleep a while longer…" Reid felt his cheeks heat up and dipped his head, letting dripping curls tumble down to curtain his face.

Morgan sucked in air sharply and was off the couch in seconds. Did Reid not realize what a picture he cut standing there dripping in a towel with his water-darkened hair hanging down? So clean and innocent and pale. Just begging to be fucked raw.

"Pretty Boy, tell me you still want this," Morgan growled. Reid jumped, clearly not expecting to find his friend so close to him.

He gulped at the desire lighting Morgan's eyes, and nodded jerkily, "I still want it. All of it."

His head bounced off the wall when his body hit. Reid gasped and left Morgan all the opportunity he needed to plunder the hot cavern of his mouth. So Morgan took. His hands wandered the expanse of Reid's bare, slicked chest. He tweaked and tugged at nipples, dragged blunt nails over slender ribs, forced a hard thigh between Reid's legs. The only thing keeping Reid's towel up now was the pressure between their groins.

And what a delicious pressure that was. Reid tried to give as good as he got, but Morgan dominated him, forcing his head backwards, his legs wider. He sobbed into the older man's mouth when the rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against the sensitive flesh of his balls. A chuckle shook the chest under his hands and Morgan pulled away, leaving Reid gasping. Then moaning as the thigh between his own ground upwards again and again.

"Morgan, please!"

"Be specific, Pretty Boy," Morgan smirked, twisting one nipple roughly and rocking his hips forward sharply.

Reid moaned and bucked forward, cursing the towel and jeans that separated them. "More, please, more!"

"Keep trying, baby," Morgan murmured, sinking teeth into Reid's shoulder.

His Pretty Boy shuddered and Morgan felt nails slide over his shirt. "Please, Morgan, I need you inside me!"

The towel lay forgotten on the floor while Morgan dragged him into the bedroom.

Reid yelped, flying back onto the bed from a forceful shove and landing with a bounce. He watched Morgan strip, open mouthed. The undershirt lifted to reveal taunt skin stretched over flexing muscles, already shining with a light coating of sweat.

Morgan turned his eyes to the man on the bed, dropping his shirt on the floor. Reid hadn't even thought to close his legs. He reclined back on his elbows, legs spread, cock dripping, panting with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. Morgan groaned and lunged forward, forgetting that he'd only managed to get his pants unbuttoned. With a quick jerk he had Reid's arms pinned over his head in one hand, the other held narrow hips down as he slid the rough material of his jeans over Reid's exposed arousal. He nipped lightly at pale skin, reducing his very pretty boy to a whimpering, writhing mass beneath him.

Reid fought back where he could. He wrapped both long legs over Morgan's hips and used the leverage to bring their hips even closer. But he was still at the disadvantage.

"Morgan," he moaned, "Strip…this isn't fair…Want to taste you…"

The heavy weight of the older man disappeared. Reid watched through hooded eyes as Morgan shucked the now too-tight pants, his boxers following shortly behind.

"All you have to do is ask, Pretty Boy," Morgan's grin was feral as he slipped up beside Reid. He felt a moment of surprised when the smaller man pushed him onto his back and moved between his legs. The kid was aggressive when he had a mind to be.

Then all thoughts abandoned him. A hot little mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and lowered, engulfing him completely. There was a pause for adjustment to size, then suction began in earnest. A tongue swirled around the length of him and dipped lower to brush across his balls.

Morgan would be ashamed to admit later that he only withstood the treatment for about five minutes before having to beg for mercy. If Pretty Boy kept this up, it would be over way before they got what they wanted.

Reid released the engorged flesh in his mouth with a satisfied pop, stretching his long body up Morgan's to kiss him slow and deep. It wasn't long before Morgan took control of the kiss, though, rolling over to pin Reid beneath him.

"Do you have-"

"Drawer in the nightstand," Reid cut him off, anxious to be filled.

Morgan felt a dark tug in his chest. He hadn't expected the kid to say yes. He scolded himself for the selfish thoughts. There was no need to begrudge his Pretty Boy some lovin'. Lord knew Morgan indulged in more than his fair share.

Jealousy smacked him in the face when he opened the drawer to find two bottles of lube, one half gone, and a nearly empty box of condoms. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who liked to spend his free time with company.

He grabbed a condom and the open bottle, quickly coating two fingers with the bare minimum. He glanced down. The kid's hips were too close to the bed to make an easy angle… Morgan snatched a free pillow and slid it under Reid's hips, with a sharp order, "Up."

That was all the warning Reid got before two slicked fingers were forced into his unprepared body. "Ugh! Morga-AH!"

The two fingers stretched wide immediately. Reid tried to focus on Morgan's face, to grasp why he looked almost angry… The treatment eased slightly when a flash of honest pain crossed Reid's eyes. Thankfully, Reid liked it hard. He figured Morgan would be a forceful lover, but he hadn't really been prepared for this. But it still felt so damn good.

His hands fisted in the comforter by his head and he arched upwards, forcing Morgan's fingers deeper. With each lift, he changed the angle marginally, trying to help the older man find his prostate. His arousal ached for contact, but Reid knew he wouldn't be able to handle the combined stimulation, so he bit his cheek and pushed himself shamelessly onto the fingers stretching him.

Morgan groaned at the sight of the lithe man beneath him. Reid's ever present tension and fluster were gone, replaced by a moaning, sensual creature who was clearly used to a little rough handling. If that's what he wanted, then that's what Morgan would give him. He'd been forced to reign in his temper when his two fingers slipped with only slight resistance into Reid's quivering entrance. The kid was far from virginal. Not really surprising, if he acted this way with all his conquests. Morgan snarled mentally at himself and pushed the ugly thoughts away.

At what point had he ever shown an interest in Reid before? Why would he have any reason to be faithful when there was never a relationship? There was no need for the kid to miss out on the pleasures of life just because Morgan felt like being a jealous asshole.

Morgan attempted to keep that in mind as the typically reserved Dr. Spencer Reid fucked himself on Morgan's fingers and moaned like a bitch in heat. It was a challenge. One he lost when his fingers touched a small knot of flesh that brought Reid bowing up of the bed with a breathy whimper.

"Reid…" Morgan knew the vague semantics of sex between men but this…

"Prostate. Intense pleasure spot for men," Reid gasped out, sinking back on the bed with the same confident little smirk he'd been wearing when Morgan had asked if he was sure about the discrepancies between the writing styles of those "soul mate" killers.

Morgan growled low in his throat and added a third finger, forcing them deeper and curling them to find that same spot. He loved that confidence, and once he'd accepted his attraction to the young genius, it had become a massive turn-on.

Reid nearly screamed when three fingers pressed into him, searching his tight body. He couldn't fight the rising joy that Morgan wasn't afraid to break him. That may not have been a conscious acknowledgement on his part, but Reid was still glad the older man wasn't treating him like porcelain.

Morgan saw the small smile that quirked Reid's lips and wanted it gone. Pleasure was all well and good, but he wanted the kid overwhelmed. He wanted to watch those pretty pink lips part in moans and sobs and pleas for release. Sitting back on his knees, Morgan wrapped his free hand around the kid's neglected length and pulled hard. He ignored the answering throb in his own cock. It would be his turn later. And he fully intended to make up for lost time.

Reid's scream tore free when Morgan's hand pulled at his erection just as his probing fingers found their target. A second tug and a second touch brought him off with a sob, a mix between pleasure and embarrassment at cumming so quickly. But Morgan wasn't stopping. Reid was used to at least a brief recovery time, a time to let the residual sensitivity fade, but his partner apparently didn't have that in mind. He kept the harsh treatment steady, giving Reid as little break as possible.

His second orgasm left him breathless and boneless on the bed. Morgan paused and Reid sobbed with relief.

He barely had the energy to open his eyes when he felt Morgan lean forward over his body, fingers still buried in Reid.

"Answer a question for me, Genius?" Morgan murmured against Reid's parted lips, curling his fingers as he asked.

Reid whimpered.

"Is my Pretty Boy someone else's Lover Boy right now?" He stretched his fingers apart, not waiting for Reid's answer before speaking again. "Because I have to tell you, baby, I don't share well." Fingers stretched wider and Reid sobbed, shaking his head from side to side. Morgan smirked, "Good, because I had no intention of giving you back. So who was it that made my Pretty Boy so very…responsive?" he shoved all three fingers as deep as he could get them, squeezing Reid's reawakened arousal tightly.

"AH! Morgan, please! I can't- I need you!" Reid bucked into the hands stretching and pulling at him.

"Tell me. Who was it? How many others have there been? How often have you spread your legs, Dr. Reid?"

The intrusive questions would have angered Reid if Morgan hadn't paired them with gentle kisses to his forehead and neck. Morgan kept stroking prostate slowly, bringing Reid to the edge of another orgasm.

"Four. Four others. Fr-friends from college. When they end up he-here with work…" Reid moaned as Morgan put more pressure on the pleasure point within him.

"Then you're going to have to cum two more times before I'll fuck you," Morgan whispered in his ear, much to Reid's delight and horror. He didn't know if he couldn't take that much more. He was young, but not that young.

It took Morgan twenty minutes to prove him wrong. He smiled down at the shaking, panting doctor. Pale skin shiny with sweat, his mussed hair plastered to his neck and cheeks and across his lips. Morgan opened the condom and rolled it on. That stimulation alone nearly brought him to completion. It had taken all his self-control to keep his orgasm at bay while he tormented Reid.

Reid felt hands under his hips lifting. His shook his head slowly in denial as Morgan hooked Reid's knees over his broad shoulders.

"I-I can't…Morgan, I can't cum again. I'll pass out…I really will," Reid pleaded. The man was going to kill him…but what a way to go.

"Oh, but baby boy, you don't have to cum. You just have to take it," Morgan kissed him deeply as he sank into Reid's well-used entrance. He swallowed Reid sobs, making slow shallow thrusts to ease the smaller man into the movement.

Despite his words, Morgan fully intended to bring Reid off once more. He'd have to be careful though, or he'd lose it first. So he worked slowly, gently, caressing the trembling body beneath his own and avoiding Reid's surely sore manhood. Next time, he wouldn't be so hard on his Pretty Boy, but…He needed to make sure the kid knew good and well who he belonged to.

Morgan was picturing every disgusting image he could come up with. He should have known this plan was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Reid was close, but between his clenching muscles and pitiful mewls, Morgan was closer. What could he…Oh! He switched from disgusting to infuriating. He pictured another man coupling with Reid in as much detail as he could manage, tempering his lust with just a touch of blinding rage. And snapped.

A whispered, "Sorry, Pretty Boy," was all the notice Reid got before Morgan began pounding brutally into his spent body. He'd found Reid's prostate again almost half an hour ago, but now he was hammering against it and Reid didn't have the will power to hold back his breathless cries or the strength to muffle them. As Morgan had said, he could do nothing more than take it again and again. He drowned in the feeling of Morgan violently filling him. When his fifth orgasm finally hit him it was almost an afterthought, all of Reid's mind was centered on the man claiming him. His abused walls clenched weakly, but tight enough to feel Morgan throbbing inside him.

Morgan pressed a demanding kiss to Reid's already bruised lips as he came. In the wake of the orgasm, his legs slid out from under him and it took all his energy not to land on top of his partner.

They lay tangled, sweating, and breathless for some time, just holding one another. Eventually, Morgan was able to lift himself up. He chucked the used condom in the trash and staggered to his feet. Reid didn't have the energy to inquire as to where he was going. But he came back soon enough with two water bottles and a damp towel that he used to gently clean Reid's sticky skin.

Reid struggled to keep his eyes open as he gulped the water down before speaking, "I'm going to need more than that, I think."

"In a little while," Morgan chuckled. "We both need a nap first." He sank down on the bed beside Reid again, pulling him close.

Reid snuggled into the embrace and yawned. His eyes were drooping, but he had to know, "What brought this on exactly? We've worked together for years and I know your casual touches were nothing more than friendly. When did you…" He looked up at Morgan when he felt a hand run through his hair.

"This. I touched your hair once and I couldn't get enough. Before I knew it, I wanted more. Of you. All of you. And then you started putting that product in it. It's unnatural and I couldn't stand it," Morgan smiled at his handiwork. He'd been right. Reid looked fucking gorgeous with sex hair. "Looks much better now. If you ever use that shit again, I'm going to pound you into the nearest available surface as soon as we're alone. That should set it to rights," Morgan smiled, pleased with himself.

"…You realize that I'm going to buy a year's supply right?"


	2. At It All Night

Author's Note: So it was going to be a one shot. Now it's a two-shot due to multiple requests, a suggestion from** bella-chan16**, and as a belated (by an hour and a half) birthday present to **MarineLvr84**! Thanks for all the love you guys ^.^

Warnings: Language and smut, folks. You've been warned.

Disclaimer: The original characters and any borrowed plot ideas belong to Mark Gordon Company, and the writers of Criminal Minds. And all the channels that run the episodes, I suppose.

* * *

><p><strong>At It All Night<strong>

Morgan tapped his foot against the side of his desk impatiently. Twice now. He was willing to let it go the first time, but two times… No. This had to stop. Reid had sheared off his golden brown locks. Again. That "boy band" look, as Hotch so aptly put it, was bad enough. It at least gave him something to hold on to when he was kissing the daylights out of the kid. Even when Reid put that shit in it. This, though, this was ridiculous.

He'd asked Reid not to come over for a while last night. After they'd finally caught that ass Billy Fl… Anyway, he'd told Reid he needed some time to himself. Reid's exact response:

"You have all the time in the world, Derek Morgan. Your Pretty Boy isn't going anywhere."

And that was why Morgan loved him.

But this morning, Morgan came into work and found that his Pretty Boy had indeed gone somewhere. The kid went to the goddamned barber. Again.

Morgan snarled softly. What was that? Two inches of hair? Two and a half? He should ask Reid; the kid would probably know precisely how long it was. Smartass.

None of that mattered, though. He had a plan. Alright, it wasn't really a plan. It was more like a decision to follow up on his previous promise. That tight little ass was going to get pounded. Hard. And not just on the next available surface. On every available surface. Morgan had some steam to blow off and the kid had pushed him over the limit. He'd have to take responsibility.

Reid glanced over at his sulking lover. The man was so easy to read.

He'd said he needed time to himself the other night. Reid was perfectly fine with that, it was understandable with what Morgan had gone through in the Flynn case. He could have all the space he needed, but only if he was going to use it constructively. Literally, if necessary. Reid recognized the cathartic nature of Morgan's side-business in contracting.

But he also knew Morgan. Knew him very well. One night was all the constructive distance he could handle. Starting tonight, Morgan would begin internalizing everything that went wrong. All the losses Ellie suffered… It was too much for a child to bare alone. It was also too much for a man to bare alone. And that was exactly what this stubborn man would attempt to do.

Reid had worked with Morgan long enough to realize that the closer he got to someone, the more reluctant he was to expose the individual in question to any amount of suffering. Even if it only turned out to be a painful or emotionally disturbing conversation. Morgan would never share the pain he was experiencing from that case with Reid, not of his own volition. No, Reid was going to have to be underhanded about it.

So that night, he'd gotten a haircut. It took all of his self control not to laugh aloud at the look on Morgan's face when he walked in that morning.

The first hack job he requested of his barber had been out of spite.

"I'm not sleeping with Reid."

Reid snorted softly. Chopping all those waves off when they got back from Alaska had certainly put paid to that outburst.

Morgan grumbled under his breath. The kid looked so damn smug. About what exactly? Morgan couldn't wait to wipe that little smirk off his face. Soon Reid would be panting in agonizing pleasure.

He'd decided months ago to forget that promise of being gentle with Reid. The kid could take it, and Lord knew he looked fucking gorgeous when he did. Back arched, panting and swearing, bucking his hips as Morgan fucked him.

Morgan took a deep breath. No erections allowed in the office. Anyway, he could tell from the soft smile lingering on Reid's lips as he came down from an orgasm that (in some twisted way) the rough treatment was as sweet to him as traditional "love-making." One more reason to love the younger man.

At some point, he needed to stop thinking it to himself and say those words out loud to the skinny white boy who, from time to time, was the only reason Morgan could walk back into this building and face the horrors of human nature day after day.

Someday soon. But first… That lack-of-a-mop on his head needed to be dealt with. It was practically military standard as far as Morgan was concerned. Unacceptable.

"Alright, that's it. I'm done. I'll see you guys way too early tomorrow morning." Prentiss lifted a hand in farewell as she headed out the door. Rossi had slipped out a little earlier. Hotch excused himself shortly after to pick Jack up from a friend's house. Garcia had some sort of RPG date planned. JJ was claiming some much needed time with William and Henry.

Reid gulped. Alone with Morgan. That had kind of been the goal, but now that it was time to man up… He was pretty nervous. It was short. Really short. And Morgan wasn't going to like that.

"Get your bag, Pretty Boy."

Warm breath ghosted over his ear and Reid whimpered softly. He was right to be nervous.

Morgan watched the slim hips sway as Reid proceeded him down the stairs. Watched him glance back over his shoulder every few steps. Morgan kept his expression blank. Not so smug anymore, hmm?

Reid shifted at the passenger door. Morgan slipped up behind him, knowing that on the security cameras it would just look like he was avoiding the car that had parked too close to the line.

"Get your ass in the car," Morgan hissed.

He smiled when Reid shuddered and nodded, climbing in quickly.

Reid tried to maintain some sort of conversation in the car. Morgan supplied monotone, monosyllable answers. Reid's ass was going to be so sore in the morning… And it would be more than worth it. Not just for the sex. He wanted to see the unrestrained smile that bled the essence of Derek Morgan again. It didn't have to be tomorrow, or the day after, or next week, or even next month. He just… It was selfish, but Reid wanted to be part of the reason why that smile spread across those kissable lips again.

So he braced himself and walked through the front door with Morgan close behind. His body shuddered in anticipation for…

Nothing.

Morgan greeted Clooney and felt his lips quirk when Reid's eyes flooded with shock. No instantaneous attack.

No, not this time. This time the kid was going to have to beg. Morgan opened his back door and to let Clooney out for a while, then turned back to Reid.

"I don't know about you, but I'm just too wired to sleep. How does a little TV sound?"

"Umm… Good, I guess."

Morgan picked up one of the _Star Trek_ seasons that had made a new home on his coffee table. Season 2. "Pick a number between one and twenty-four."

"Seventeen, 'That Which Survives'."

"I don't know why I bother. I should just ask you to pick your favorite."

Reid's brow furrowed, clearly still a bit confused over the turn of events. "They're all my favorite. If you asked for that, we'd be at it all night."

Morgan stuck the DVD in the slot and dropped down smoothly on to the sofa. He controlled the coil of hunger burning in his groin. They were going to be at it all night, anyway.

Reid stared at the screen, not really seeing the pictures. He was going to be very upset if he cut his hair for nothing. It was his strongest trump card in the relationship and one he couldn't use very often. He only had so much hair.

Two glasses of wine each and two episodes of _Star Trek_ gone. And all Morgan was doing was holding him against his chest. No teasing strokes. No tantalizing squeezes. Reid squirmed in his place. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know where Morgan's mind was right now. Reid needed to know that it wasn't chasing the ghost of a dead man. During intercourse, he could say with 100% certainty that Morgan's thoughts were on him and him alone. Completely present and grounded… Maybe not always grounded, but always present.

"Morgan…" Reid shifted his ass against Morgan's groin again, trying in vain to elicit some sort of involuntary reaction from the quiet man. Nothing.

Damn it, Reid didn't have a backup plan if this fell through. With anyone else a bit of time, persistent reassurance, and support would be enough to eventually break the depressive cycle. Not with Morgan. He would eat it until someone forced him to vomit it back up. Like he did with Buford. And if Reid waited that long to handle this, the rift it caused would be just as wide. He and the team still hadn't finished replacing the rope bridge spanning the canyon that was Carl Buford in Morgan's life. Reid shifted again, this time in agitation.

Morgan gritted his teeth. If Reid didn't stop squirming soon, his plan was going to fall apart. "Are you uncomfortable, Pretty Boy?"

The slender body leaning against him froze, then Reid snuggled firmly back into his chest. "No."

Morgan smiled and kissed the top of his head. Maybe just a little teasing to get this going. He didn't want to spend the rest of the night waiting. He wanted to spend it fucking Reid till he cried.

He slipped the hand resting on Reid's hip beneath the hem of his shirt and started slowly stroking the curve of his hip bone. So bony and frail in appearance. Morgan was grateful the package belied the nature of its contents. He couldn't think of anything hotter than watching the fidgety doctor come apart at the seams just from two or three fingers buried in him. Morgan's fingers curled instinctively at the thought, dragging nails over the hollow at Reid's hip.

Reid trembled and closed his eyes tightly. If he didn't know _Star Trek_ by heart, he wouldn't have any idea what was going on right now. The nails on his hip were driving him to distraction. He was doing everything in his limited power not to rush Morgan. If the problem was that he honestly wasn't emotionally ready for sex again yet, Reid would wait. This wasn't about pushing Morgan too far, it was about pulling him back on his feet.

But now Morgan's nails were drifting down beneath the hem of his slacks and…and…and something. Anything! Shit, his body was responding. Or nothing. Nothing was better than this. Because they were creeping closer and closer to the center of his abdomen and lower. Reid's steadily growing arousal twitched. Then Morgan's nails scraped down pale trail of hair leading to the to his groin and Reid gave up on trying to pretend immunity.

"Morgan, please…" he whimpered.

Morgan nearly groaned in relief. If the kid hadn't given in soon, his own desire was going to make itself known. "You need something, baby?" He kept his tone light and inquisitive. Morgan had no intention of letting Reid off easy this time. His fingers kept stroking slowly, occasionally tugging the soft hairs beneath them.

Reid wriggled and tried to work his hand lower down his stomach, but Morgan stilled his fingers.

"No, no, don't stop!" Reid whined piteously.

"Stop what, Pretty Boy? You doin' ok?" Morgan snickered softly when Reid kicked his feet like a four year old.

"Damn it, you know exactly what!"

Reid blamed the wine for his lack of control. He knocked the arms around him away and flipped over, pulling his knees up by Morgan's hips and pushing broad shoulders back into the arm of the couch. "Tease," he grouched, brushing his lips across his lover's.

"Now when have I ever teased you?" Morgan smiled innocently.

Reid gasped as large hands slid up to cup his ass.

He moaned softly and crushed his lips to Morgan's, begging for entrance with his tongue.

Yes! This was it. It took a great deal of coaxing to get Reid to take the first step when it came to sex. He kept himself under such tight control and always acted like he was asking Morgan a favor almost. Of course, once they got started… That was another matter.

This was what Morgan needed from Reid. There were going to be times…times when he just couldn't take what he knew his heart demanded. Morgan needed someone who had the strength to give it to him, whether he was ready or not. And Reid had that strength in spades. God, he loved the little genius so much.

Reid slid his tongue against Morgan's and groaned softly, his erection now pressing tauntingly against the zipper of his slacks. He ground his hips down into Morgan's, seeking some sort of relief. His stomach flipped when Morgan arched smoothly beneath him, moaning at the friction. So gorgeous…

"Fuck me, Morgan," Reid whispered against parted lips. "Please."

Morgan's eyes flashed and he grinned wolfishly.

"We've got a few too many clothes on, kid. If you want this, do something about it."

Reid shivered at the demand and claimed another heated kiss. He rose and felt the warm rush of the alcohol wash over his body. He backed slowly away from the couch, unbuttoning his cardigan as he went. One thing he'd found over the years was that he was a natural at strip tease (with a little wine). Something he had yet to share with Morgan.

His fingers worked their way up the buttons and slid slowly over his shoulders and up his neck, running through what was left of his hair. He kept backing away steadily, his hips swaying to a rhythm only he could hear. Reid rolled his shoulders back as he spun smoothly in his stocking feet, letting the sweater slip easily from his arms to the floor.

Only a button-up, undershirt, slacks, and socks to go. No boxers this time. He knew this morning that he was going to want as little between himself and Morgan as possible.

Morgan was gripping the couch so hard, Reid was quite sure the fabric would rip soon. The heat that flooded those dark eyes gave him one of the biggest confidence boosts of his life. His arms were back over his head now, his hips still gyrating tightly.

Morgan was standing now, his eyes wide with fascination.

Reid unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and practically slithered out of it against the wall, sliding down slowly with his back pressed to the wall. He deposited the shirt on the floor and ran his hands up under his undershirt teasingly as he rose, toeing off his socks simultaneously. He kicked them off as he turned away and held his arms out to drag his fingertips against the walls of the hallway.

Morgan couldn't stop himself from drifting after the lithe dancing figure.

His arms lifted over his head and he ran his hands back through his hair. His nails raked down his skin until he touched the neck of his shirt. He gripped the material and yanked it over his head in one brisk jerk, then dropped it carelessly on the floor.

A soft growl rose from deep in Morgan's chest. This gorgeous young man was his. What had Morgan done to deserve him? After this week…Nothing. Nothing he'd ever done came close to making him worthy of Spencer Reid.

Reid was almost to the bedroom. With a deft movement, he undid his slacks and let them slip down on his hips, showing just a hint of his ass to his very attentive audience. He stopped and turned with a lilting smile.

Morgan fisted his hands at his sides. Where had all the air gone?

"You're still wearing too many clothes. Come here and let me do something about that." Reid held out a hand and crooked his index finger.

Morgan wasn't sure how exactly, but suddenly he was sitting on the edge of his bed with a nearly naked Pretty Boy pulling his shirt over his head. Pushing him backwards slowly to lie flat on his back. Straddling him and kissing him breathless as his hips were lifted and his pants slid away.

He sat up to see a very naked, very confident, Pretty Boy standing before him. What had happened to all those clothes again?

And then there was more kissing. Wonderful kissing. Gasping. Licking. Mewling. Stroking. Groaning. Stretching. Moaning.

Something was supposed to be happening here. Reid came into this with a plan and he couldn't remember what it was now, because Morgan was pinning him to the bed and pushing into his body and making him burn with a fullness that had nothing to do with his considerable girth. He was whispering nonsense in Reid's ear as he adjusted, making him feel like the most cherished man in the world.

Morgan kissed across Reid's shoulders and up his neck and along the shell of his ear. He was upset about something. He'd started out that way, at least. What was it? His hair? What was wrong with Reid's hair? Nothing. It was wonderful. Better with a little length and a few curls, but when it sat atop a package like this, who gave a damn what the bow looked like? Not Morgan. Not anymore.

They chased their mutual pleasure until the sun crested in the window. At some point, the pleasure ceased to be sexual in nature. It came from the slender arms wrapped tightly around Morgan's shoulders when he buried his face in Reid's neck and whispered over and over that he should have gotten there sooner. Found a way to stop it. Been better at his job. Actually done his job. It came from the warm pain rising in Reid's chest as he held his lover in one of the older man's lowest moments and swore he wasn't going anywhere. Not ever.

It came two hours later from the text Hotch sent reading: No case. Stay home. Keep your phones on.

Two tangled bodies slid into sleep at 5:42 AM.

When Reid opened his eyes four hours later, he was alone in bed. There was a note on the side table: an apology for his absence and an address. Morgan had gone to hammer down a few walls. Reid smiled a bit and climbed out of bed. He opened Morgan's drawers and rummaged for a while.

Morgan gulped his water and tilted his face up to the warm sun. There was nothing more therapeutic than a good round of mind-blowing sex and a little productive violence. He could do this.

With a smile and sigh, he turned to grab his hammer. A hammer that was no longer on the ground where he'd left it. A skinny, white boy in a baggy shirt and belted pants held it out to him, handle-first.

"Want some company?"

Morgan stared silently for a few seconds.

"I love you."

Reid's jaw dropped. So did the hammer. Right on his toe.

"FUCK!"


End file.
